


Sugar Crush

by Swashbuckler



Category: Catwoman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Banter, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Flirting, Post-Canon, References to Canon, Sleepovers, Sleepy Cuddles, Sort Of, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29184117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swashbuckler/pseuds/Swashbuckler
Summary: The Trickster is just as smitten as she remembers. Selina is a little fond of him, too.
Relationships: Selina Kyle/James Jesse
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	Sugar Crush

**Author's Note:**

> Set some time after James' appearance in Catwoman #69-71 (Vol 2, 1999) - also technically Catwoman #21 (Vol 3, 2003) - because I reread it and just couldn't not write something. I love that story and James and Selina's banter and James' crush on her that can be seen from space. <3

She ends up in Central on instinct. Once she's there, far enough from Gotham that the irritation can fade and she can breathe a little easier, Selina takes a moment to consider her options.  
  
She slips through the city, so much quieter than her home at night, until she finds herself outside a beautiful brownstone she had looked up a little while ago, just for fun. Hidden in shadow across the street, she surveys it. There's an open window on the second floor she considers, and decides against using: the house belongs to an old friend too clever for his own good and regardless of how 'good' he's being these days, he is still unpredictable and she's not willing to take the risk of the place being rigged like a funhouse to surprise any ambitious intruders when he definitely has too much time on his hands now he's no longer getting them dirty.  
  
Hypocrite, she accuses of the open window bait, and instead chooses a more direct approach.  
  
The doorbell chimes the tune of something she assumes she is supposed to recognise. Selina figures he must've taken a moment to check who was waiting outside through the spyhole because when the door is whipped open she is greeted by owlish surprise and a cable of black liquorice dangling from between his teeth.  
  
" _'Elina?_ "  
  
She smiles. "Hello, Tricky."  
  
The Trickster blinks, flicks open the book in his hand to check his page number before setting it aside, and snaps up the last of his liquorice, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "What--" he manages once he's choked down the last of his sweet "--are you doing in Central?"  
  
"I had to shake a tail," she explains, stepping inside at his bowed invitation and he shuts the door behind her, "and I didn't want to have to sleep with one eye open tonight. I figured it'd be smarter to get out of dodge and deal with it in the morning."  
  
"I'm sure _you_ could've found a way to shake it and stay in Gotham." There's no resentment in his tone, which is appreciated, if expected. He's not wrong, either. She knows Gotham better than most, but she's tired, and that tiredness had brought with it the self-indulgent memory of someone who had sussed her out from head to toe, from alter ego to tells she didn't think she showed, and the thought of not needing any pretence after working for several days straight was too inviting to decline.  
  
"I could, but who doesn't love a quick getaway? Better to leave him chasing his own tail where he won't find me - I'd say that's only fair. Plus I can sleep well in Central knowing that the 'pack' you used to run in is the _definition_ of territorial."  
  
James shrugs, hands spread wide. "What can I say? We don't share." He smiles at her, oh so fondly. "It's good to see you, pussycat."  
  
She's reminded of their last moments together in New York, how his sour candy charm had softened to sugar in his smitten confession; she'd be lying if it hadn't played a part in what drew her here, and he'd be able to tell. She returns the smile and quirks an eyebrow at him. "And it's good to see you out of the stripes."  
  
He pretends to be wounded and clutches his chest, and then he's grinning. "I offered to take them off before," he reminds her playfully.  
  
She eyes the mercifully plain sweats with relief, and scoffs at the t-shirt he's wearing. "A mercy on two counts, then."  
  
James is hovering by the sofa - not literally, this time. He's drumming his fingers against the back cushions, arched up on his toes like he's waiting for something. "I'm guessing," he starts, fingers tapping an idle rhythm with his words, "that you have somewhere to stay?" It's an innocent question; one he already knows the answer to - she wouldn't be here otherwise. She could have holed up in a fancy hotel and he would have been none the wiser, and she's guessing he's waiting for her to match his faux-coy act with something sly and snarky.  
  
Instead, she offers him an exhausted - and honest - "I hope so."  
  
James' act melts into sincere surprise and she slips her thumbs under her cowl and slides it back, adjusting her ruffled hair out of reflex. "Do you have a change of clothes I could borrow? Leather makes for terrible pyjamas."  
  
He invites her upstairs without hesitation and rifles through his closet to find something for her. His bedroom is far tamer than she'd expected; there are fewer clashing colours, bar a truly heinous rug that takes up most of the floor. There are trinkets dotted around that she knows come from the museum exhibits rather than the gift shop mixed in with tacky, classic toys, and there is a cluster of framed photographs on one wall. She doesn't pry beyond a glance their way; they are full of group shots and colourful costumes. She figures it's personal.  
  
James leaves her a little pile of clothes on the bed and makes himself scarce so she can change in private and - as it turns out - so that when she sees the shirt he's left for her he's safely out of range. She scowls at it. Striped. Of course. Still, not to refuse the _kindness_ of her host - or to admit defeat in the face of petty tease - she changes into it and the plain black shorts that are a little more her flavour.  
  
Selina waits for James to exit the bathroom, stood outside his bedroom door, one nail tapping against the door frame.  
  
"Happy?" she accuses when he appears looking far too proud of himself.  
  
"You have _no_ idea."  
  
The shirt is a loose fitting candy-striped white and pastel pink thing she imagines must've played a part in conning kids out of their pocket money over the summer by overcharging them for ice cream. She tells him as much, and he just laughs.  
  
"No," he assures her, "just Len." Then he gives her an exaggerated pout. "I hear you pulled a job with him in Keystone a little while ago, and you didn't come and say hi. For shame."  
  
Selina rolls her eyes. "I ran into Cold while I was working and it escalated. How is Lenny?"  
  
"Sore that you swindled him, but not so sore he didn't tell _everyone_ about getting to pull a job with you," he says with approval, whether at Len's appreciation or her double-cross, she's not sure. Probably both. Judging by the stink of mint clouded around him he's scrubbed his teeth of every last trace of his liquorice - either out of routine or curtesy or puppyish hope she doesn't know - and or really mind - which reminds her--  
  
He's handed her a zip up travel case before she can get the words out. "Toothbrush, toothpaste - but feel free to use mine - and a couple of other bits. There aren't, uh--" James' gaze lingers on her dark lips and he quickly clears his throat when she smiles knowingly "--makeup wipes in there, but I have makeup remover in the cupboard under the sink, next to the spirit gum. Whatever you do, don't mix those up."  
  
"Have many guests, do you?" Selina calls to him in disbelief from the bathroom where an army of rubber ducks are watching her clean her teeth. She pinches a small one off the counter and squeezes it. It squeaks dutifully. She exhales a bemused noise. "Or are you swindling hotels out of their freebies to save on shampoo?"  
  
"Hey! I'm-- _was_ , I _was_ a thief, I'm not _cheap_. It's one of Piper's kits - one of his help-the-homeless short-term solutions."  
  
"Is that part of your karmic redemption kick?"  
  
"I mean, it can't hurt," he reasons from the hall. "But it's more that while Piper may live with a Speedster, that doesn't make him one and he appreciates the extra legwork. I help dole them out on this side of town."  
  
When she opens the bathroom door he's disappeared. Selina glances back into his room and down the hall but he's not there. There is, however, the glint of a fine wire running parallel to the floor a few steps from the open window at the end of the hall.  
  
Selina smirks. _Knew it._  
  
It turns out the Trickster had made his way back downstairs. James is sat on the sofa, back reading the book he'd answered the door holding; its battered cover reveals it's some Western romp. He jumps when she slides onto the sofa beside him.  
  
"You are too good at that," he says and Selina hums in agreement. She tucks her head against his shoulder and James gives her that same look of boyish, open surprise she had seen before in New York when he had asked if she was flirting with him. "Not interested in the spare room then?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
James sets his book aside and moves her gently, stretching his legs out to join hers and reclining so she's more comfortable. He tucks one arm around her, his hand resting on her waist which she greets with a happy little hum to let him know it's welcome to stay.  
  
Selina nuzzles her face close to his and plucks at his at his t-shirt. " _'Central City Police Department'_?" she queries finally. He laughs, and the sound is as warm as he is.   
  
" _'Been there, done that'_ \- too many times," he parrots easily, " _'got the t-shirt'_." Selina closes her eyes and feels the gentle tickle of her hair being stroked aside by careful fingers.  
  
"You cut your hair. It was longer when I saw you in your campaign office."  
  
"Easier with the cowl," she murmurs.   
  
"I like it." James' right hand joins his left, fingers linking at her waist. "Want me to get a blanket?"  
  
She makes a disapproving noise. "I want you to not move."  
  
"Okay." A quiet and cheerful lilt close to her ear.

She sighs. Being cuddled up with the Trickster was cosier than it had any right to be. "Tell me about Neron."  
  
Beneath her, James tenses. "And here I thought you were being sweet, kitty," he says with a chattering laugh.  
  
Selina rubs an apologetic hand over his chest and snuggles closer. "I meant," she soothes, "tell me about your greatest sting. You seemed so proud of it before, and you said that no one knew about it. So tell me."  
  
"Oh." He wriggles, fidgeting out the agitation, then settles, breathing slowly. "Oh. Well then." And then he's telling her everything. He's a good storyteller, with a mellow voice and rich pride blooming in his words as all unease slips away that lulls her tired mind easily into a blissful haze, enjoying the lazy stroke of his fingers down her side, following the lines of the shirt and drawing slow shapes on her shoulder as he recalls his greatest feat.  
  
Selina yawns. "And you did all that," she asks in dozy disbelief, "in the stripes?"  
  
James laughs dreamily and there's a part of her that could listen to that laugh all day. Maybe tomorrow she will. James wraps his arms around her shoulders and tilts his head against hers and closes his eyes.  
  
" _Oh_ yes, pussycat."

**Author's Note:**

> James' smitten confession to Selina about all her tells and about being able to tell when she's tired and how that makes him want to hold her heavily inspired this fic - Selina doesn't say it outright, but that was what encouraged her to go to him rather than a hotel (everyone loves a cuddle).
> 
> [James' house is loosely inspired by his place in Underworld Unleashed!](https://twitter.com/Williamson_Josh/status/1106035198498492416/photo/2).
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! :)
> 
> Also for anyone curious, spirit gum is an adhesive used in prosthetic makeup. :)


End file.
